13. part 13
I just got a new name, Hoodie. i don’t want to remember my old one, i want to forget that life and leave it all behind. i’ll go with Slenderman but i don’t want to die, i think he will be okay. i feel weird though, like hes my friend somehow, i guess hes comforting to some and scary to most. “i think im ready to leave. . .” i said looking down at my brother. i started crying, Slenderman came over to me and placed a large hand on my shoulder, “i know everything will be alright.” He promised me. i stood taller then i had when i started crying and started walking, “Now, where do you live?” i asked him. He stopped and stood above me, “i live a few miles in that general direction.” He told me pointing into the woods, he always talks very formal. “Well what are we waiting for lets go. . .” i said trying to run with my legs limited in a foot of snow. i am still crying but i don’t think he saw. Slenderman grabbed my hand, i was trying to get my feet unstuck from the snow, and lifted me up. He held me with his tentacles behind him so i could watch where we were walking. “No use running in thick snow.” He told me. His tentacles were warm and they looked like thick, black vines. They were coming from his back, “Do you live in a nice house?” i asked him. i am very curious of what kind of a place a tall monster like him would live in. “Yea were almost there give it a days time,” he told me. “A DAY?! it takes a day to get to your house!!” i screamed. “But how are you able to get here every school day on time?? i asked him. “Well Hoodie, i posses the ability to teleport,” i can teleport here and there in an instant.” i was impressed by his gift. “Well can’t you poof us there?” i asked him. “No its not that easy Hoodie, i can only ‘poof’ myself.” He told me.
After a few hours i began to get sleepy, then i remember something remarkable. i felt my dad’s butterfly knife in my pocket, my moms house key around my neck, and i wore my brothers hoodie. i will never see my mom again, she will probably think i killed my brother. . .its for the best if she never sees me again, she wouldn’t believe me, shes would think im a killer. Well if i wanted to go home im sure in a few years i can, i have the key. i started to cry, these items were representing my family, i don’t even have a picture to remember them by. Just the memories. i began to cry, i can’t go back this is for the best, to go off with a stranger who killed my brother. . .i guess even if he did kill me its for the best.